


A Little Time To Breathe

by retrojupiter



Series: Interludes [2]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Behind the Scenes, Fluff, Gen, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, this is just 2k of self indulgent fluff. idk what else to say yall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:21:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27507511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retrojupiter/pseuds/retrojupiter
Summary: A direct sequel to Boxed Up - Din gives the kid a bath and some finger paints. Assorted chaos ensues.(guys this is just 2k of pure fluff, based on real experiences of leaving children with paint)
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Din Djarin
Series: Interludes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2007094
Comments: 22
Kudos: 167





	A Little Time To Breathe

It had taken a while, but the kid and Din had managed to settle into an uneasy routine in the time they had been together. Din would wake up to a small green face pushed against his face, try and not freak out, then they would have breakfast. Sometimes the kid would be fussy, others times not - Din was still trying to work out how to cook for an infant when his entire repertoire of foods involved incredible amounts of spice, but he was getting there. 

After breakfast, Din would travel wherever he needed to go, settle the kid, and go catch a bounty. And he would take far too long, leaving the kid to get worried and anxious, and every day he would come back to crying and it felt like his heart would explode -

Then, they would have an evening meal, take off, and Din would pass out in his bunk for as long as he could. 

For the most part, it worked, aside from the kid being overly clingy at the times that Din was on the ship, but it meant that he was safe, as well as having the benefit of them not being _completely fucking broke._ And with no covert to provide for anymore (couldn’t exactly send credits to a smoking hole), he sometimes had credits left over, and they could afford to just...drift for a little bit. Not going anywhere, no life or death situations slamming on their door. Just anchored in space, to take a little time to breathe. 

Those were like his weekends, a bit of time to do something special - honestly, it was to feel like he was alive, rather than just surviving. And most of Din’s happiness revolved around the kid these days, so those days and nights ended up being a pamper party...for a small green baby. 

Nights like this. 

The plan of action was this: Eat a meal. Bathe the kid. An activity of some kind? Present the toy for approval. Bed. Din had dug out an old toy - a little teddy bear - for the kid to play with and was planning to give it to the tiny dictator this drifting session. The kid had a distinct lack of toys - or a stable home, but he was doing his best - and the soft toy would be perfect for him to cuddle up with when he went to sleep. At the moment, the kid was cuddling one of Din’s old gloves, and there was no way that was sanitary at _all_. And maybe having something soft would stop him from sneaking out of his hammock and into Din’s arms at night if he had something better to snuggle on. 

Years of extreme vigilance as a hunter and Mandalorian had given Din a keen sense of time-management and efficiency, and adorable eyes be damned, he was going to get his eight hours sleep tonight. With no fear of crushing the baby with said adorable eyes, if he happened to roll over.

But, as he should have learnt by now, that meant absolute shit in the face of a fussy toddler. 

So they were an hour into bath time, and the kid was taking absolute joy in soaking Din’s clothes as much he could physically manage _\- people had warned him kids were a handful, they had not warned him about_ **_Jetii_ ** _kids_ \- by making spheres of water dance above their heads, then shrieking in delight when he dropped them all on top of Din’s helmet, covering him and the fresher in the process. 

“Ad’ika, _please,”_ Din grabbed the kid’s hands in his, stroking them gently, “I need you to calm down a little so I can get you clean, ‘lek? Then we can do something more fun, that doesn’t involve flooding the ship?”

The kid cooed a little at the sound of his voice, ears pointing up. He splashed his hands in the soapy water but - thank _manda_ \- didn’t make any more spheres. 

Din finished wiping him down with a cloth and soap (really, how different was it to cleaning the ship?) and lifted him out of the sink, getting even more water on the floor in the process. Then, he wrapped him up in the old shirt that had been doubling as a towel for the kid, rubbing him a little to get him dry, which elicited a slightly sleepy giggle from the kid. 

“Ok, ad’ika. You want to paint?” 

It was a little early for the kid to play the usual foundling games, Din had thought, but a quick holonet search had come up with a promising article: 8 games to play with your baby. It even came with a patronising advert line - 

“Got nothing after "This Little Piggy"? Ramp up your repertoire with these fun games to play with your baby.” 

Perfect. 

The first three had been useless – Bath games were out of the question, as was ‘getting some fresh air’, and he simply didn’t have enough safe substances for filling bottles with interesting things, but number 6 had been intriguing - High Chair Art. He’d bought some paints and rough paper at the last market he’d landed at, but hadn’t had the chance to give them to the kid yet. Hopefully, this and the little bear would make up for all the times Din had left him alone recently.

After putting the kid back into his clothes, he plopped him down at the kitchen table in front of the paints. The kid just looked at him expectantly.

With a sigh, Din popped one of the paint pots open, putting a small dollop of a vibrant blue on the paper. The kid...still didn't look like he was getting it, so Din took off one of his gloves, dipped his index finger in the paint, and drew a small smiley face. 

Comprehension dawned in the kid's eyes, a grin lighting up his face. Suddenly, he lunged forward to slam his hand into the blue paint, sending splatters everywhere. 

Including Din's armour. 

Resisting the urge to sigh again, Din said, "I'm not trying to be Paz, kid. Let's try one finger at a time, huh?" He guided a little claw to the paint, tracing a circle with the kid's hand.

The kid cooed questioningly, and prodded his finger back in the paint, drawing a random squiggle. He giggled, making random shapes with the blue paint, then looked up at Din for approval.

Din nodded at him. Right - the kid was occupied. Time for a little self-care. 

He opened the rest of the paint pots so the kid had a selection of colours, and trudged off to the fresher, leaving the kid shrieking in delight.

Don't get him wrong, having the kid around was fine, great even, but having a toddler to take care of 24 hours a day meant that certain things just fell by the wayside. Things like shaving, and cutting his hair. The facial hair situation had got to the point where rather than looking like a rugged hunter, he was starting to just look scruffy, and he was sure that the ends of his hair were curling up the edge of his helmet.

Closing and locking the door, Din took off the helmet and ran a hand through his hair - _osik_ , that was the blue paint hand - and grabbed his razor and a pair of scissors. Shaving was easy, he could see his face, but cutting his hair was a completely different matter. He could never get it straight, and always missed at least one strand that would then be guaranteed to fall into his eyes.

Nevertheless, he did his best and soon stepped out of the fresher feeling a little more human, and glad that he only had the toy and sleeping left on the agenda.

He walked back to where he had left the kid. And stopped. Abruptly.

The kitchen looked like an interactive art display. Paint was splattered on the walls, coating his cupboard and smudging against the table and chair. The kid, at the centre of the chaos, hadn't noticed Din approaching yet and seemed to be right in the middle of creating another colour bomb.

The kid was smart. Too smart. He'd combined his earlier bath time trick with the paints, and was hovering a small sphere of neon pink paint above his head. His face was screwed up in concentration, clearly contemplating where to wreak havoc next, while his hand was outstretched to the ball, shaping it.

Din cleared his throat.

Whipping around in shock, the kid spun his hand around too, catapulting the paint straight at Din at full force. Din felt like he was watching it in slow motion –

The paint splatted loudly against Din's _freshly polished_ chest plate, coating him in neon pink from collarbone to stomach.

A moment of stunned silence rang through the kitchen.

And the kid had the audacity to _giggle_.

Sighing, Din looked down at the mess. " _Nu coplika, ad'ika_.”

Luckily, the kid seemed to have avoided covering himself in the chaos, so the only things needing wiping was just _every surface in the kitchen_ , and Din’s armour. Thinking for a second, Din decided to just leave the kitchen to dry as it was – it wasn’t as though anyone ever came in here, because he sure as hell didn’t feed his bounties, and the splashes of colour might actually be a nice change to all the steel grey he had going on.

(Bonus, he wouldn’t have to clean it all up right now.)

Deciding on a course of action, Din spoke to the kid. “We’re going to get your mess cleared up, put your paper somewhere safe, and head up to the cockpit, ‘lek? Just don’t-“

Too late. The kid had squeaked in protest to ‘tidying up’ and slammed his hands into the piles of paint he had created, _coating his clean clothes and himself_ -

Grabbing the goblin, Din swung him under his arm, ignoring the squeals of mixed amusement and protest, and quickly screwed all the lids back on the paints. The paper the kid had been working on was wet, so he left that, and headed back to the refresher for yet another wash.

This time was a little easier, Din wiping down the kid’s hands and face, removing the streaks of bright colours, and then changing him again, into another small robe. Din took off his chest plate too, wiping it down with the beskar polish that – _no ad’ika you_ **_can’t_ ** _drink that –_ took the paint off easily. The paint was all over his cowl and flak vest too, so he took those and the rest of the armour off, and changed into some softer sleeping clothes. The kid was chewing sleepily on his amulet by the time he was finished, seemingly tired out by the night’s excitement, and snuggled happily into Din’s neck when he was picked up.

“Done being a tyrant? I’ve got something for you if you’re good…”

(This was a lie. He was getting the damn bear even if he coated everything in neon pink)

Ears perked up, the kid cooed questioningly at him. Din wandered over to their bunk, depositing him in his hammock. He reached to the shelf above the bed, gently taking the bear from its hiding spot. The kid’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw it, reaching and babbling at the toy.

“This…this was mine. A long time ago. And I don’t need it now – so I’m giving it to you, so you can have something nice, you can cuddle it…” Din trailed off. He passed the bear to the kid with a sort of reverence, watching as he slowly looked it over, eyes bright. Din stroked the kid’s ear as he snuggled into it, happiness evident, and said softly,

“You can keep that, ad’ika... I’d never take anything away from you.”

As he kept stroking the kid’s ear, his eyes dropped lower and lower, before the baby finally dozed off, clinging tightly to his new toy. Din tucked him into the blanket in his hammock, then sat down on his bunk, slipping his helmet off. He could either go and clean up the kitchen or go to sleep now. He was bone-tired, and listening to the kid’s soft snores, he gave in, shuffling on the bed awkwardly.

Drifting off quickly, Din was only half awake when he felt the kid nestle next to him, the small bear pressed close to his side. With a huff of fond exasperation, Din threw over an arm and drew them both closer. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, hope you enjoyed! This is purely self-indulgent, I'm thinking we all deserve something soft in this kind of time.  
> The article I mentioned is real - https://www.todaysparent.com/baby/how-to-play-with-your-baby/ - researching that one late at night really made me question my entire life's choices lmao.  
> Also, I hope the show names the baby soon; i wrote 'the kid' 45 times in this fic ALONE
> 
> As usual, any feedback/comments/suggestions massively appreciated :)  
> \- Esher (they/them)
> 
> Mando'a Translations:
> 
> Jetti: Jedi  
> Ad'ika: Child/little one  
> 'Lek: Yeah  
> Nu coplika: Not cute (unimpressed)


End file.
